


Baked Good

by nubianamy



Category: Glee
Genre: Christmas Cookies, Fluff, Food Metaphors, Friends to Lovers, Kinnja Day, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Tumblr: fuckurtadvent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-07 02:00:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5439296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nubianamy/pseuds/nubianamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt gets angry and bakes cookies, but Finn's going to give him space not to talk about it. Maybe.</p><p>Fuckurt Advent 2015: Day 16 and Kinnja Day 2016.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Finn got home from practice and got his dinner out of the fridge, Kurt was making Christmas cookies. Finn stood in the middle of the kitchen holding aloft his bowl of pad thai and looking confused for about three minutes before pointing out, “There isn’t any room to sit at the counter.”

“That’s because I’m using the counter,” Kurt said. He attempted to nudge aside his bangs with the back of his hand, seeing as how his fingers were covered with flour, and finally blew them out of the way with his bottom lip.

Finn eyed the flat sheet of dough Kurt was rolling across the center of the laminate. “All of the counter?”

“What does it look like to you?”

He continued to stand there for a few minutes while Kurt ignored him. Finally he retreated to the dining room table to eat by himself and sulk a little. 

Twenty minutes later, he was back. While he rinsed his dishes and put them in the sink, he caught the smell from the oven. It felt a lot like the cartoon where a scent lifts the nose of the wolf and reduces him to a dreamy zombie, following the ribbon of the scent through the town, like a rat after the Pied Piper. 

“What’s _that?”_ Finn asked. 

“Pistachio almond tarts. No, wait, those are out already. Those are the date pinwheels.” Kurt reached over and swatted Finn’s hand as he reached for the oven door. “Don’t mess with the cookies, Finn.”

“Can I have one of these?” He was already nudging one blob of chocolate-chip cookie dough with his finger.

“ _No!”_  

“Come on, there’s a million of them.”

Kurt swung around, brandishing his wooden spoon. “There’s eighteen dozen, and they’re not done yet. Would you get _out_ of here?”

“What are they all for, anyway? As far as I know you don’t even celebrate Christmas.” He blanched at Kurt’s glare and took two steps back. “Okay, okay, I’m going! Jeez.”

He didn’t, though. He hovered in the doorway, tilting his head at Kurt, watching him as he rolled balls of dough and dipped them in egg white, then in crushed nuts, then carefully pressed his thumb into each ball. 

“I could do that,” Finn offered. 

Kurt’s glare faded to perplexity. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to help? Don’t you have something better to do?”

Finn shrugged. “Not really? I like cookies.”

“You like _eating_ cookies.”

“Well, yeah.” Finn attempted a step into the kitchen, but Kurt gave him a two-handed wave that drove him back again. 

“Would you leave me alone?”

Kurt’s holler brought Finn’s mom to stand beside him, peeking around his shoulder into the kitchen with concern. “Boys?”

“I’m _trying_ to get something done,” Kurt said, staring pointedly at Finn. 

His mom took him by the arm and steered him firmly back into the family room, calling, “We’ll stay out of your way.”

“I was just offering to help,” Finn protested. 

“Maybe Kurt needs a little time to himself right now. Considering what just happened. I think we should give him some room to process.”

Finn had caught another whiff of the baked cookies as Kurt opened the oven, but he managed to focus on his mom’s words. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, Kurt didn’t tell you?” His mom grimaced. “Maybe I should give him a chance to bring it up, if he wants to. At least let him alone tonight, okay?”

Finn was able to curtail his curiosity enough to stay downstairs in their room for the next couple hours. When Kurt came down eventually, smelling like vanilla and butter and glaring at everything, he went right into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He stayed in there for long enough that Finn wondered if he was going to run out of hot water, but he seemed calm enough afterward.

“Everything okay?” Finn asked cautiously.

“No,” said Kurt.

That was all he said. Finn thought about the way Kurt had rolled out the dough, pressing vigorously in all directions, making an even sheet before cutting circles and hearts and stars with the cookie cutters.

“Did making the cookies help?”

Kurt didn’t respond right away. He climbed onto his bed and arrayed his face creams around him in a double arc. Then he sighed, a long, meditative breath. “Maybe."

Finn nodded. “Okay.”

Later, after they’d turned off the light, Finn could hear Kurt moving restlessly, adjusting his pillows. 

“Mom said I should leave you alone,” Finn said into the dark. “But I think… maybe that’s not the right thing.”

“No?” Kurt said softly.

“Well, you’re alone kind of a lot.”

Finn thought the noise Kurt made sounded like a sob. 

“Kurt?”

“I — I can’t talk to you about this, Finn.”

That hurt more than Kurt yelling at him in the kitchen. “Why not?”

“Because it’s hard enough already. I don’t want to hear your advice. I just want to forget about it and move on.”

“I don’t have to give you advice. We don’t even have to talk at all.” He sat up a little, watching the dark shape of Kurt in the light of the garden-level window. “I mean, you can talk and I can… shut up.”

This time Kurt chuckled. “That doesn’t sound too bad, actually. Thanks for the offer, Finn. I’ll let you know.”

They were both quiet after that, but Finn sat where he was for a while, watching Kurt sleeping, much in the way he’d watched him working in the kitchen. Kurt didn’t stir. Finn was pretty sure he was still awake, but he wasn’t about to bother Kurt again with his words. Eventually he fell asleep himself.

***

The next day after school, Finn found Kurt slicing cookie dough into circles from long tubes. This time he waited in the doorway until Kurt acknowledged him with a brief nod before coming into the kitchen. 

“How do you get the dough to stay together in that shape?” he asked, pulling up a seat at the counter.

Kurt gave him a contemptuous look. “I chilled the dough in the freezer overnight.”

Finn picked up a second paper-wrapped tube, weighing it in his hands appreciatively. “Big. That’s a big roll of dough you got there.”

Kurt let out a snort, but he was smiling. “What kind of comment is _that?”_  

“What, I can’t admire my brother’s cookies? That’s not just ordinary dough.” Finn smacked his lips. “I bet it tastes awesome.”

“Oh my god, Finn. Would you put that down before you thaw the dough in those huge hands of yours?”

Finn made a mock sad face. “What, you think I’m gonna make your dough stick go limp?”

Now Kurt was giggling outright, his face bright pink. He thrust the chef’s knife at Finn in a threatening move that would have been more convincing if his hand hadn’t been wobbling with laughter. Finn grinned back. Then he realized something.

“You haven’t been doing a whole lot of that, have you?”

“Playing with… dough sticks?” Kurt forced his face into composure. “Not really, no.”

“Smiling,” Finn clarified. 

He watched as Kurt’s amusement vanished altogether. He sighed and turned to the pan beside him, rearranging the slices of dough on the parchment paper. “I think that’s a matter of degree.”

“You have to have a degree to smile?”

“I mean I’ve never really smiled all that frequently.”

Finn thought about that. Then he shook his head. “No, that’s not true. Sometimes you smile. Not so much in school, I guess, but at home? Around me and your dad and my mom.”

Kurt opened the door to the oven, sliding it inside before too much of the warm air could escape. Finn thought he shrugged. 

“It’s different at home,” he said after a minute. 

Finn was pleased by the idea that Kurt thought of this as _home,_ after less than a year of living together. “Different how?”

“I don’t have to try so hard. To be anybody except myself.” Kurt gestured at the mess on the counter, at his flour-dusted t-shirt and sweatpants. “I mean, do you really think I’d do this in front of _anybody_ else?”

“I don’t know?” Finn shrugged. He picked up the roll of parchment paper and, using the size of the empty cookie sheet as a guide, measured out a piece. When he set it on top of the cookie sheet, he realized Kurt was staring at him. He paused, hesitating. “Uh… do you want me to go?”

Kurt shook his head. “No. It’s not — I’m okay. You’re not in my way.”

He went on cutting slices onto the fresh cookie sheet until that one was full, too. Finn stayed his seat as Kurt opened the oven a second time, perusing the cookies inside. Finn took a long whiff through his nose, making an appreciative _mmmmmm._

“That’s the best smell this kitchen has ever had. I swear, it’s true, and I’m including the time my mom did those dip candle things.”

Kurt watched Finn’s face with a little smile. He closed the oven. “I’ll give them another minute.”

“So did you do this last year and I just didn’t notice?”

Kurt shook his head. “I used to, when my mom was alive. I would help her organize all the different recipes, get the ingredients together. This is the first time I’ve done it by myself.”

Finn nudged the flour on the counter together into a little pile with the edge of his finger. “Is that why you’re sad? Because you miss your mom?”

“No.” Kurt crossed his arms, leaning on the counter. He watched Finn’s finger play bulldozer with the flour. 

“Sometimes I miss my dad even though I hardly knew him.”

“It’s not about my mom,” Kurt said softly. 

Finn left the flour alone and slid his hand over to rest on top of Kurt’s. Kurt jerked back a little in surprise, but he didn’t pull away from Finn’s touch. After a minute, he let Finn intertwine their fingers, then squeeze tight. He let out a little sigh. 

“I wasn’t doing a very good job of shutting up,” said Finn. 

Kurt shrugged. “It was okay, though.”

When Kurt disentangled their fingers to pull the cookies out of the oven and transfer them to the cooling rack, Finn sat there waiting. As soon as he returned to the counter, Finn reached for his hand again. 

“Finn, I have to make cookies,” Kurt said, sounding more pleased than annoyed.

“No, you don’t,” said Finn. “You’ve got — “ He squinted at the timer on the stove. “— Twelve minutes. You can let your log go soft and bake the rest of them another day.”

Kurt’s mouth twitched. “I suppose I can cope with a… soft log.”

Finn squeezed his hand again. “Never knew you had a problem with that.”

His bemused expression was really priceless. “Finn, why are you doing this?”

“Because that smiling thing is better than not smiling?” Finn smiled at him to prove his point, and Kurt smiled back reluctantly. He was still a little pink, or maybe it was a new round of blushing. “I’m not annoying you too bad, am I?”

“No,” said Kurt. “I’m just not sure what to make of it. Your timing is a little… inconvenient.”

“Why, because you wanted to stay pissed off at whatever’s going on?”

“Maybe.” Kurt leaned against Finn’s shoulder for just a moment. “It’s easier to be angry than it is to be sad.”

“Really?” Finn regarded him doubtfully. “Huh. You don’t want to cry in front of me, but you’ll yell at me?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, even if you don’t want to, you can totally cry in front of me. I wouldn’t be offended at all. And you wouldn’t have to explain why.”

Kurt’s face bloomed into an entirely unexpected smile. Seeing it that close, Finn couldn’t help but be affected by it. He laughed.

“See, that’s how you should look all the time.”

“I don’t think anybody gets to be happy all the time, Finn.”

Kurt maintained his smile for a couple minutes, though, and he let Finn hold his hand, and snickered at Finn’s further jokes about playing with thick tubes of dough. By the time the next pan of cookies came out of the oven, Finn was feeling triumphantly giddy. _I made him happy,_ he thought. 

“Where are those ones you cut out yesterday?” Finn asked. “The circles and moons and stars and things.”

“The sugar cookies? They’re in containers under the dining room table.”

“Are you going to put frosting on them?”

Kurt nodded. “Tomorrow after school.” He nibbled his lip. “You want to help?”

“Yeah!” Finn said, with enough enthusiasm that Kurt’s smile was renewed. “You don’t mind?”

“No, it’s — it’s fine. This was nice.” Kurt held up Finn’s hand and waggled it. “Really nice.”

Finn thought about that while they cleaned up the kitchen and put the cooled cookies into plastic bags. Kurt was back in a pensive state, but Finn didn’t mind that Kurt wasn’t talking to him. It didn’t feel bad at all, even if Kurt hadn’t told him what was bothering him.

But when they got ready for bed that night, after dinner, Finn became acutely aware of Kurt’s deteriorating mood. When he realized what was happening, he made Kurt stop what he was doing and sat down on the edge of his bed.

“You were quiet, but not sad,” said Finn. “But now you’re quiet _and_ sad.”

Kurt frowned. “I thought you said I could be sad if I wanted.”

“I said you could cry. I didn’t say you could — I don’t know what you're doing, but it's kind of sucky. Lonely.” He reached out and touched Kurt’s wrist. “Can’t I, you know, give you a hug or something?”

Kurt scrunched his nose into a face that might have been funny if Finn hadn’t known how bad he was feeling. 

“C’mon.” Finn took his arm and gave him a little tug toward him. “It’s not so bad. I don’t think I smell. Do I? No, wait, don’t answer that.”

Kurt was already inhaling as Finn pulled him into his arms. “You smell like — cookies.”

“Oh, well, that’s a great smell.” Finn’s nose brushed against Kurt’s hair, and he breathed in deeper as soon as he caught the scent Kurt carried with him. “Oh, wow. You think we could make a cologne that smells like this?”

Kurt rested stiffly against Finn’s chest, his hands squashed into the space between them. Eventually he slid them out and along Finn’s sides, letting his hands grip Finn’s rib cage. Finn could feel his fingers tighten, not enough to tickle, but enough for Finn to feel their pressure and warmth. 

“I’m sorry,” said Finn.

“ _You’re_ sorry?” Kurt shook his head. “I’m the one acting like an idiot.”

“No, you’re not. You’re pissed. I’m sorry you’re pissed. Mostly I’m sorry you think you need to do it alone.”

Kurt turned his face into Finn’s t-shirt and took a few deep hitching breaths before beginning to cry. He let Finn hug him tighter, and even put his arms all the way around Finn’s chest, shifting his legs until he was pressed up against the outside of Finn’s long thigh. Finn could feel him trembling all over. He wondered how tight he could hug Kurt before he protested.

“Are you cold?” he asked. “You’re shivering.”

Kurt shook his head, his face still buried in Finn’s shoulder.

“You know this is okay, right?”

He sobbed harder. “God, Finn… how is this _okay?”_

“I mean, you can do this. With me. If you’re gonna be sad, I want… I want you to do it with somebody, and it might as well be somebody who…” 

Kurt sat back far enough to reach for a tissue and blow his nose. His cheeks were wet. Finn repressed an urge to get another tissue and wipe them off, too. 

He tipped up his chin to meet Finn’s gaze. His eyes were red-rimmed, but his own gaze was steady. “Somebody who what?”

Finn swallowed. “Somebody who… likes the smell of cookies.”

Kurt placed one hand in the center of Finn’s chest. He brushed a gentle circle while they both breathed. 

“Do you want me to tell you why I’m upset?”

Finn nodded. He wasn’t sure he could make a noise when Kurt was this close. 

“But if I don’t, you won’t be mad?”

He quickly shook his head. Kurt’s hand stroked across his chest again. When it caught the edge of one hard nipple, he squirmed a little. Kurt nodded thoughtfully, returning his hand to the center of Finn’s chest.

“I can feel your heartbeat.”

He was pretty sure if he moved, Kurt would be able to feel other things against his leg, so he stayed where he was. “Yeah?”

“I feel a lot better, Finn. That hug really helped. Thank you.”

“Any time,” Finn whispered. As he cleared his throat, he sat back. Kurt seemed reluctant to let go. He was still looking at Finn with that same consideration. 

“You’re going to help me tomorrow?”

“Anytime,” he repeated. Kurt smiled, shaking his head. 

“I meant with the frosting.”

“Oh, uh… yeah. Definitely. You’ll have to show me how to make it, though, because I’ve never done anything like that and I’m kind of —“

“Finn,” said Kurt. He was smiling again. It looked a little sad again. “You don’t have to do it.”

“No, I want to. I really want to.” Finn watched Kurt’s eyes flash, and he felt a sudden echoing warmth in his chest where Kurt’s hand had been.

“Even though you’ve never… frosted cookies before?” Kurt asked carefully. 

“Yeah, I don’t think that matters.” He let out a little laugh. “It’s nice, you know? You and me, together like this. I don’t think it matters _what_ we’re doing.”

Kurt’s eyebrows went up. He reached out one hand and, very deliberately, placed it on Finn’s thigh. Finn felt his blush intensify as he twitched visibly in his pajama pants.

“I can think of a couple things that might matter,” Kurt said. He looked down at the floor and took a steadying breath. “You were right. I am lonely. I’ve been lonely for a long time because since Blaine and I broke up, there hasn’t been anybody who made me feel… loved.” He looked back up at Finn. “Not like this.”

“Yeah, well…” He cleared his throat, trying to find enough moisture in his mouth to wet his lips. “You are. I mean, I do. You’re loved. By me.”

Kurt nodded with wonder. “I can tell, Finn. Really.”

Finn kind of wanted to move Kurt’s hand someplace else on his leg, but instead he gathered it up and held it cradled in his fingers, like it was a precious, fragile object. Even that made Kurt’s eyes soften and shine. 

“I’m not trying to be… like Blaine was,” said Finn. “I’m not sure anybody could measure up to that.”

Kurt’s eyes widened, and he laughed again. “Finn… don’t you know that Blaine spent an entire year trying to measure up to _you?”_

Finn stared at him, fighting the grin that threatened to split his face in two. “Oh. No, I guess… I didn’t know that.”

“ _You_ spent a lot of time and energy convincing me I should stop trying.” Kurt adjusted his hand so he could grasp one of Finn’s. His other hand remained on Finn’s thigh. 

“Well, I got over that. Remember what I told you at the wedding?” 

“I know.” He smiled. “I still think about that all the time.” 

“Me too,” said Finn fervently. “I mean, that was intense, dancing with you like that, I had dreams about that for weeks, but this is even —“

“Finn.” Kurt’s eyes were full to brimming. “Shut up.”

He pressed his lips together and sat, watching and listening as attentively as he could. Kurt’s smile grew.

“I was upset yesterday because I got my rejection letter from Tisch.” 

“Oh.” He nodded, setting aside the million questions he had. 

“It was a long shot, and I knew it. Even harder to get into than NYADA, and Dad definitely can’t afford the price tag. I think… it just felt like the final nail in the coffin. Logically I know I can go to Ohio State nextyear and keep applying for programs out of state, but it was a reminder of all the ways I’ve failed as a performer.”

“Kurt,” Finn protested. Kurt smiled and shook his head. 

“Shh. I’m trying to tell you why it’s better now. You made me feel safe to express myself. And better than that, you reminded me that I’m not just the sum of my performing parts. That some people like me even if I’m not the best singer, or the best actor, or the best dancer.”

“Well, sure.” He opened his mouth to say more, but Kurt’s hand on his thigh tightened, and his voice came out as a strangled gasp. 

“I’m saying,” Kurt went on, “that you’re making staying in Ohio sound a lot more appealing.”

“Ah.” Finn held his breath, and nodded, his thigh tingling. “Yeah. I — feel the same way. I mean, if you have to stay in Ohio, I want it to be with me.”

Kurt nodded back. “Not just anybody who likes cookies.”

“Right. No. I mean particularly me. But you can definitely make cookies any time you want.”

They both let go at the same time, moving back on the bed. Finn decided taking a look at Kurt’s lap to see if Kurt was as turned on as he was might be a bad move. Kurt was still smiling, though, so maybe it was all right. 

“So we’re going to go to sleep?” he said, hoping his voice didn’t sound too wistful. “Just like always?”

“Yes,” said Kurt. “If you’re still comfortable being in the same bedroom as me.”

“Comfortable, yeah.” He stood awkwardly. “I think… yeah. I might need a hug in the morning, though. Just to remind me this was all okay.”

Kurt brushed his arm with the back of his fingers, looking up at him. “You can have one now, if you want.”

“Uh…” He laughed nervously. “That would… probably start things you might not want to start.”

“Considering how long I’ve been wanting to start them? I doubt that.”

Finn groaned softly. “Okay, think about it like this. Making cookies, you got out all the butter and the sugar and the — the baking things, and you spread out all over the, uh, counter…” He flickered a glance at his slightly rumpled bed, then Kurt’s tidy one. “And it takes… time. To make it all happen. And on top of that, it’s messy.”

Kurt eyes glinted. “Finn, are you saying you want to get messy on top of me?”

“On the counter. God, yes. But maybe not tonight?”

Judging by the erratic pace of Kurt’s breathing, he thought that sounded pretty great. Either that, or he was having a heart attack. But he nodded. “All right. One ordinary night, coming up.”

They climbed into their own beds and Finn turned off the light. In the dark, things seemed a lot less clear. 

“Kurt?” he asked in an undertone.

“Mmm?”

“Maybe tomorrow we could frost… one cookie?”

“Finn,” said Kurt. “I think you get to frost as many cookies as you want.”

“I wish I’d taken you up on that hug.”

“It’ll still be there tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” Finn had to laugh at himself. “Okay. Yeah. I mean, it’s not like I _never_ frosted a cookie before.”

“Oh?” Kurt sounded curious. “I guess I've never asked you that question.”

“No, no, I haven’t — they’ve all been girls’ cookies, but… wait, are they cookies with girls? Or is cookies just for us?”

“I think cookies is just for us.”

“Okay. So, yeah. I want to frost a cookie. Maybe we can use those tubes that let you squeeze frosting all over —”

“Finn, do you need me to come over there and hug you just so you’ll shut up?”

Finn smiled. “Shutting up now.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the smutty follow-up chapter! Happy Kinnja Day, everybody.

It was easier for Finn to wake up the next morning and go right upstairs than to wait for Kurt. He made three peanut butter and cream cheese sandwiches for breakfast, and packed his lunch, and sat there eating and staring at Kurt’s stack of cookies, feeling both anxious and more turned on than was convenient.

Kurt didn’t appear upstairs until after his mother had already joined him at the table. He gave Kurt a quick smile, wishing he could say more without making it weird. It was already weird enough. But then Kurt stood at the stove and scrambled himself some eggs and fussed over putting them into the tortilla wrap with something green, and eventually his mother left the kitchen to get ready for work.

“Can I sit next to you?” Kurt asked in a quiet voice.

“Yeah, of course.” Finn nudged the chair out with his foot, gesturing at it.

Kurt set his plate beside Finn’s, which now only held one half a sandwich, and settled himself into the chair, scooting it in close to the table.

“Your mom didn’t mention anything was odd,” he said. “I have to wonder if she has any idea what’s going on.”

 _I have no idea what’s going on,_ Finn wanted to say, but he just shook his head.

“I think people are going to be too busy doing their own thing to care about us.”

Kurt slid one hand under the table, reaching for Finn’s leg. Finn took his hand and gripped it tight.

“I’m sure you’re right,” Kurt said.

They sat there for several minutes, Kurt eating his egg wrap and Finn hoping his hand wasn’t too sweaty. At one point, Kurt looked up at Finn out of the corner of his eye, and Finn smiled, and Kurt relaxed a little.

“Are you worried?” Finn asked. “You look worried.”

Kurt shrugged. “I’m trying not to have expectations.”

Finn frowned. “That sounds kind of sucky. Can we go back downstairs and do that hug thing we didn’t do last night?”

“You remember why we didn’t last night,” Kurt said. He pushed his half-eaten wrap across the table. “I think that’s even more likely to happen now.”

“Yeah,” Finn agreed. “Probably.”

That seemed to be the right thing to say, because Kurt squeezed his hand and smiled. “Well, I’ll enjoy thinking about it all day, at least.”

Finn did that all day, himself. At least at school there were no Christmas cookies sitting around, taunting him with his inexperience. He did ordinary things, like talking to Rachel and Puck, and tried not to pay too close attention to the clock, ticking off the time until school was out. He thought about not going home right away, but that felt particularly unfair given what Kurt had already said to him about frosting cookies.

Kurt was home, or at least the Navigator was. When Finn went inside, however, he wasn’t in the kitchen.

“Kurt?” he called.

“Down here,” he heard from the basement.

Kurt was sitting on his bed leafing through a magazine. Finn assumed it was a fashion magazine until he saw the photos of cookies on the page. He sat at the foot of Kurt’s bed.

“How was it today?” he asked Kurt.

“Fine.” Kurt’s eyes came up very briefly, then returned to his magazine. “I think people did notice, though. I was pretty distracted.”

“Yeah, distracted, that’s a good word.” Finn hesitated. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” He set the magazine down. “Here’s the thing, though. I would actually like to frost some cookies.”

Finn wrinkled his brow. “When you say _frost some cookies,_ you are talking about the stuff with the sugar and the spreading and the — ” Kurt’s face was already going pink. Finn gestured at the stairs. “Those boxes of things you baked.”

“Yes, that. Not that I don’t want to, um. Frost other things, too. I mean, your cookies.” His cheeks were completely red now. “This metaphor is going to get me into a whole bucket of trouble.”

Finn grinned. “Yeah, I can’t say I’m sorry? It’s kind of awesome watching you do that.”

He squirmed and crossed his arms defensively. “Do _what?”_

“Well, you always know what to say. Usually I’m the one who doesn’t know what words to use.”

“Look,” Kurt snapped. “I’m thinking if we sit down with a knife and a bowl of frosting and some cookies, we might be able to get some work done. But I didn’t want you to think that just because I’m trying to manage a task doesn’t mean I don’t… that I wasn’t thinking about the _other_ thing. Which I was. Am.”

It wasn’t like he was all that surprised to hear Kurt say it, considering their conversation of the night before, but it still gave him a little _zing_ in his stomach to hear it again. “Yeah?”

“All day. So here’s my other question.” He still wasn’t exactly looking at Finn, or at the stairs, or anything in particular. “Is being in the kitchen doing work together going to be so incredibly distracting that we won’t actually accomplish anything?”

Finn raised both eyebrows. “Is that a trick question?”

“No. I’m actually wondering.”

He blew out a breath, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “I do have kind of a history of going on dates where I end up sitting around hoping to get to the good part. But the thing is, this, what we’re doing right now?” He touched Kurt’s ankle and watched his face soften. “This already feels like the good part to me.” Then he shrugged. “But maybe that’s just me being a little freaked out by the idea of… handling tubes of frosting.”

Kurt nodded soberly. “I suppose that might be an indication that we should slow down.”

“Well, this —?“ Finn made a back and forth gesture into the space between them. “It’s actually pretty _slow,_ when you think about it. As in we’ve known each other over a year now, and we’re just getting around to… this.”

When Kurt finally looked up at Finn, his eyes were uncertain. “Are you trying to say — we should _speed up?”_

“It’s not the speed that’s the issue,” he said. “I think it just depends on how much _doing_ you’re thinking about doing.”

“Oh.” He bit his lip. “Can we… maybe try something small?”

“I think if we try something small, it’s going to get big pretty quickly.”

Finn managed to keep a straight face until Kurt cracked up, and then he grinned. And then Kurt looked him up and down playfully, and he had to clench his teeth, because there was no way Kurt meant that to be as big a turn-on as it was.

“How… big are we talking?” Kurt said softly.

“Enough to keep you full and happy for a while,” Finn said.

Kurt hid his face in embarrassment as he laughed again, but only for a moment.

“I, uh, think you’d be equally pleased with me.”

Finn raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me you _want_ me to handle your tube of dough now? You told me I’d thaw it out if I did that.”

Kurt reached out and touched the hand on his ankle. “I think if you put your hands on my dough tube, Finn, _thawing out_ is not what’s going to happen.”

Finn nodded quickly. “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. You’re not the only one who’s been thinking about this all day. All night. But…” He had to take a breath at the look on Kurt’s face. “You’re a lot more experienced at frosting cookies than I am.”

“Oh.” Kurt’s eyes cleared. “Are you saying you’re worried because you’re afraid you’ll make a mistake?”

He nodded. “More like I’m going to do it wrong.”

“That’s what _make a mistake_ means, Finn.” Kurt smiled. He didn’t look like he was teasing now.

That made Finn more nervous, not less. He shrugged. “I can make jokes all day, but I don’t know if I can really _do_ any of… what you want.”

“I honestly don’t think there’s anything you can do I wouldn’t like,” said Kurt. “And if you’re not ready yet, we don’t have to do any of it.”

“That’s not exactly going to get your cookies frosted, Kurt.”

Kurt licked his lips. Finn found himself licking his own reflexively.

“Do you want me to… start by myself?”

“Uh.” He stared at Kurt, watching his face for cues, but other than the same tension that had been there since he’d walked through the door, there was nothing. “Are you talking about going upstairs to start by yourself, or… staying down here to start by yourself? Because I think that might actually —“

“Oh! Oh, god, no, Finn, I wasn’t talking about —“ Now Kurt was hiding behind his hand, his face scarlet. “You really think that would be…? I can’t even imagine —“

“Well, it’d be like watching those cooking shows,” Finn said earnestly. “It’s not the same as doing it yourself, but sometimes it’s useful to watch somebody who knows what to do, first. And then you get inspired, and you feel like, hey, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard.”

Kurt peeked out from behind his hand. “It would be way harder than that,” he whispered.

Finn grinned. “Kurt, was that a _joke?_ Or are you trying to convince me I’m not gonna be any good at this frosting business?”

“It was a joke,” Kurt groaned, “and — and possibly also true, and I’m already mortified. And I don’t expect you to be, like, a professional cookie decorator or anything.”

“It’s the thought that counts?” Finn thought about his state the night before when he’d gone to bed, and how he’d decided not to look to see if Kurt had been just as turned on as he had. He took a little peek now at Kurt’s lap, but it was covered by the not-fashion cookie magazine. He couldn’t exactly ask him to move it aside.

“Okay, I’m thinking we have three options,” he said. He released Kurt’s ankle. “One, we go upstairs and actually frost the cookies.”

Kurt nodded. “The benefit of which is, the cookies get frosted. Assuming we can manage to focus on anything for that long.”

“Right. Except by then, mom and Burt will be home, and we’ll have to figure out what to do next with them around.”

“That’s maybe not ideal. Option two?”

“You go upstairs and frost the cookies by yourself.” Finn watched Kurt’s face go from anticipatory to distressed in less than two seconds. “That way at least the cookies will be done the way you want them.”

“Trust me,” Kurt said, his teeth set, “I’ve been frosting my own cookies for… a long time now, and it’s never really much fun doing it alone.”

“Oh.” That made Finn feel suddenly terrible, and he reached out and grabbed Kurt’s ankle again. Kurt expelled some air, which might have been surprise, but it sounded like a moan. “I’m really sorry, Kurt. I mean, if I’d been paying a little more attention, I could have done something about that a long time ago.”

“You could have?” Kurt said. He sounded so hopeful. But he shook his head. “No, Finn, it doesn’t matter. I’m really grateful you’re willing to think about it now, though. What’s the third option?”

Finn shrugged, trying not to blush too badly. “We stay down here until mom and Burt get home, and frost the cookies after dinner.”

Kurt nodded. “And… what do you think about that option?”

“I’m still kind of freaking out about it, but I think if you don’t mind me cracking jokes through the whole thing, I’ll be okay.” He slid a finger under the hem of Kurt’s jeans and stroked the skin along his ankle, watching Kurt’s eyes glaze over. “And maybe it isn’t the most responsible option, but I kind of think we’d be more likely to get other stuff done if we’re not having such a hard time focusing.”

“I’m not sure I’ve _ever_ been very good at focusing when you’re around,” Kurt said breathlessly. “But I think if you’d let me start with that hug I didn’t give you last night… that might be a place to begin.”

Finn stayed seated at the foot of Kurt’s bed, watching nervously as Kurt set his magazine down and stood.

“Kurt,” he said, and then stopped. Kurt held out a hand.

“Just a hug. Nothing — oh, god.”

Finn had not clasped Kurt’s hand, but had instead rested his palm on the front of Kurt’s pants. He slid it up and down the length of him, feeling Kurt’s immediate and obvious response.

“Wow,” he murmured, breaking into a smile. “You weren’t kidding. That’s one serious quantity of dough you’re packing.”

“Finn,” Kurt gasped, “you don’t have to — ohhh.”

“Well, I kind of do, if I want to get you off.” He already had Kurt’s pants half-unzipped.

“Finn, _wait.”_ Kurt fumbled both of his hands on top of Finn’s, stilling his motions. “What happened to going _slowly?”_

Finn made a disappointed face. “You’re not going to send me to bed again, like you did last night, are you? Because that kind of sucked.”

He could feel Kurt’s hands trembling, not to mention the movement _under_ his hands. “I — I thought you were scared to get up close and personal with my — frosting.”

“Well, yeah, but I’ve also been thinking about it all day, and I’m…” He curved his fingers around the shape under his hand and squeezed. Kurt gasped again, leaning into his grip. “I’m more curious than scared. How it feels. How it… tastes.”

“You really don’t have to taste anything,” Kurt whispered. He was standing very still now, his hands resting slack on Finn’s shoulders.

“I’m totally not going to be able to unless you help me get these pants off. Seriously, Kurt, how do you even get _into_ these?”

“It takes a while. And a lot of wiggling. Can I at least reciprocate?” Kurt whined as Finn brushed his cheek against the fuzz on his bare belly. “Oh, god… that’s incredibly distracting.”

“It looked soft,” Finn explained. “I think you have to let me go first. I’m gonna have to concentrate. Maybe you can tell me if I do stuff you don’t like.” He kissed Kurt’s navel, making him gasp again. “You don’t seem to mind this.”

“Mind… no.” Kurt sighed, then hooked both thumbs into the waistband of his pants and shimmied them down his legs. Finn examined Kurt’s tight briefs with interest.

“I think I get for the first time whey they call it a _package.”_ He placed his palm over it again, considering. “I get to unwrap it. You didn’t, like, scare Blaine off with this thing, did you?”

“There were some things he was… reluctant to do — oh, god, Finn, that’s —“ Kurt grabbed at his shoulders for support. “I think if you’re going to do that, I’m going to have to sit down.”

“Lie down,” Finn suggested. “Yeah, I’m thinking there might be things Blaine _couldn’t_ do. Actually. Physically.” He helped Kurt back onto the bed, this time without pants. “I know I called him a _big mouth,_ but in reality, he was kind of —“

“ _Finn,”_ Kurt said through gritted teeth. “I think we should stop talking about Blaine.”

“I think in a minute I’m not going to be able to say much. Can you, you know, lift up, so I can get these off? Thanks.” Finn smiled at Kurt’s shivering reaction as he ran his hands up and down Kurt’s legs. “You’re kind of fuzzy all over.”

“Guys are like that. Actually, mammals are like that, but I think girls sometimes —“ He choked on whatever words he was going to say next. “Oh — Finn.”

“Hey, I’ve got one, too. I know what to do with it.” He watched Kurt’s half-lidded eyes as he gripped him, enjoying the way Kurt’s mouth hung slack. “Not too fast?”

“No — can you — with your fingers, kind of — press, right here? _Oh,_ god, that’s —“

“Dude, I didn’t think it could get any bigger. Huh. Maybe being so close, it’s more obvious.”He paused, then leaned in and put out his tongue. When Kurt yelped, Finn looked up. “You don’t like that?”

“No, oh my god, how could I not like that, I just — I didn’t expect it.”

Finn raised both eyebrows. “You didn’t? Should I have made _more_ innuendoes about frosting?”

Kurt’s hips were already squirming. “I — I thought you were kidding.”

“Not kidding.” He licked his lips thoughtfully. “Huh. Not what I expected. Lemme try that again.”

This time, Kurt held very still while Finn used his lips as well as his tongue. The noises Kurt made were encouraging, not to mention the way he continued to move his hips. Finn paused after a few minutes.

“That’s about all I can fit in there, Kurt. And I really _do_ have a big mouth. Can I try my hand again?”

“Anything.” Kurt’s hand fluttered uselessly. “You can do anything you want.”

“Do you mean that literally?” He wrapped his hand around the base of Kurt, still marveling. “Dang, I can barely get my hand around you.”

“I wouldn’t have… pegged you for a… size queen.” Kurt’s words were punctuated by very appealing little gasps. When he leaned over and added his mouth, the gasps were joined by moans and _oh god-_ s. Finn had to pause, he was grinning so much.

“It’s really hard to do this while smiling.”

“I’m not sure how to help you with that.” Kurt blinked at him. “I’m really glad you’re smiling, Finn. Really.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve smiled this much in months.” He went back to what he’d been doing, reveling in the accelerating noises, until Kurt reached down and patted him frantically on the side of the head.

“Finn, I’m — _really_ close. Just, would you… for a minute?”

Finn reluctantly sat back, letting his eyes rove over Kurt’s panting, half-naked form with curiosity. “It’s not like I’ve seen a lot of hard dicks, Kurt, but I _seriously_ never expected —“

“Well, it’s not really the sort of thing you _tell_ your stepbrother, is it?” he snapped. Kurt’s hand brushed over his own leg, avoiding touching the erection, but making it twitch and jump anyway.

 _“Hey, Finn, I’m, like, porn-star big,”_ Finn said, not even trying to sound like Kurt, but he laughed anyway.

“It’s more awkward than anything.” Kurt looked like he’d regained some of his self-control. “Sorry, I just didn’t want to… I didn’t want it to be over that fast. Our first time.”

“Not our last time,” Finn said.

“No?”

Kurt looked so tentative, it made him sigh and inch his hand back up Kurt’s thigh into the sweaty curve of his leg where it met his groin. That made Kurt buck and groan all over again. “No. Seriously no. I wouldn’t have done this with you if it was gonna be once.”

“I can’t assume anything, Finn.” He could hear the tears in Kurt’s voice, but that might have been normal for almost-coming Kurt, there was no way he could know.

“I told you how I felt.”

Kurt nodded. “Yes. You did.”

This time when Finn’s hand wrapped around him, Kurt closed his eyes and thrust into Finn’s hand with deliberation. Finn watched with awe at Kurt’s body’s gyrations.

“Oh, wow. That’s so hot, Kurt I can’t even —“

“Coming,” Kurt gasped, and peeled aside the hem of his shirt before doing just that, all over his own stomach and Finn’s hand and part of the bedspread and — Finn’s eyes got bigger.

“Holy shit. When’s the last time you did that?”

“I don’t know?” Kurt flopped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, breathing hard. He continued to twitch in Finn’s hand. “Maybe a week ago?”

“A week?” Finn yelped. “How can you go that long?”

“Maybe I like to wait because it means it ends like that.”

“You wouldn’t rather come twenty times instead of waiting for one?”

“No, Finn,” he said softly. “I’d rather wait for the one.”

That shut Finn up, for a few minutes at least, while he cleaned up. Then he wedged himself onto Kurt’s bed beside him, finding places to put his arms. They fit very nicely around Kurt.

“Just — your leg, go ahead and — yeah, over mine, like that.”

“I’m not squashing you?” Kurt asked, his voice muffled in Finn’s shoulder.

“Not even a little,” Finn promised. “You’re a lot littler than me.” He paused, then added, “Well, in most ways.”

“Trust me, the novelty wears off.” Kurt didn’t sound embarrassed, but Finn could feel the way he was trembling, half-sprawled on top of him.

“You cold? I could get a —“

“Don’t move, please.” Kurt propped himself up on one elbow, gazing down at Finn with half-lidded eyes. His fingers brushed Finn’s cheek. “Okay if I kiss you now?”

Finn nodded. “Is this, like, a thank-you-for-getting-me-off kiss, or a you’re-really-sweet-now-go-away kiss?”

“Definitely not the latter.” He leaned in and pressed soft lips to Finn’s, letting gravity deepen it. After a few moments, Finn paused.

“Sorry,” he said apologetically, “I didn’t realize I was doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“You know,” said Finn, doing it again against Kurt’s leg. Kurt made a gentler form of the earlier moan. “Oh. I guess that’s okay, then?”

“More than okay,” Kurt reassured him. “You’ve been so sweet about this whole thing. I can’t even tell if you’re nervous or anything.”

Finn rubbed Kurt’s back a little, up and down, feeling his warmth and solidity. He shrugged. “I guess I wanted to take care of you.”

“Yeah. I could tell.” Kurt kissed him again, and this time Finn did the rubbing thing deliberately. After another minute, he paused.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” He laughed sheepishly. “I could come in, like, five seconds if you keep kissing me like that.”

“Oh.” Kurt bit his lip, glancing down at him. “Can I — I mean, you can do that if you want.”

“I’m not used to getting to pick what happens. Mostly it’s always been _slow down, Finn,_ or _notyet, Finn,_ or _I’m not ready for that, Finn.”_

“I just noticed you weren’t making jokes anymore, and thought maybe that meant you wanted to talk?”

“The kissing is nice,” he insisted. “Really nice. I like it. And I liked that other thing I did too, actually.”

Kurt nodded. He managed to get one of his hands down between them, and rested it tentatively on Finn’s zipper.

“I could do that for you,” he whispered.

“That… would be awesome.” Finn did his best to hold very still. “I think just _talking_ about it might be enough to — uh. Frost some cookies.”

Kurt laughed quietly. “Then I think we should just stay right here like this, and whatever happens, happens.” He let his thumb rub Finn up and down through his jeans. “But tomorrow, I want to do that.”

Finn gulped. “Your skin,” he managed. “I want to feel… your hand, on me.”

Together their two hands completed one action, one hand holding the edge of Finn's jeans while the other worked the zipper down, and then Kurt’s fingers slipped into his boxers. Finn made an embarrassingly loud noise. Kurt shushed him, not to tell Finn he was being too loud, but soothingly. He kissed Finn the whole time he was coming, and when he was done, he didn’t stop kissing him.

“Oh, wow,” Finn murmured. He rested his head against Kurt’s.

Kurt smiled, nuzzling his neck in a really sweet way. “You okay?”

“I have all kinds of words in my head about how I feel, and I can’t make my mouth say any of them.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“But I _want_ to. I want to — tell you everything. Like all the times I wanted to do that and was afraid, or you were with Blaine and I didn’t want to interfere with that, or I was with Rachel and I couldn’t, and how when you were sad I would watch you and feel bad that I couldn’t help. And I’m so glad you want to be here with me in Ohio after we graduate, but I really, really don’t want you to feel like this is second best.” He had to stop to take a breath, and paused when he noticed the way Kurt was looking at him. “What?”

“That _was_ a lot of words.”

Finn laughed. “Yeah. There are more.”

“This isn’t second best, Finn.” He had that almost-crying sound in his voice again. “This is — what I’ve been wanting and never thought I could have.”

“Well, you can.” Finn ventured a kiss, and another one, more lingering. Kurt made really appealing noises into his mouth when he did that. “You can have whatever you — whoa.”He didn’t have to look to see what was going on between Kurt’s legs. “How are you — _again?”_

“I think it was the words,” Kurt admitted. “I’m totally turned on by romantic declarations of commitment.”

“You mean I just have to say _I love you_ and I get to have sex with you again?”

Kurt buried his face in Finn’s shirt and began to shake. It took Finn a few seconds to decide if it was laughter or sobs. He kissed his cheek and dragged Kurt completely on top of him, wondering if he should be weirded out by their dicks touching, and wrapped his arms around him as tight as he could.

“I love you, too,” Kurt said, his voice fragmented.

“You knew that, right?”

“Hearing it like that is different. It changes things. Like… cookie dough, before and after you bake it.”

Finn’s hands, stroking Kurt’s back, suddenly landed on his bare butt. Kurt’s _oh_ noise was so long and sexy, _ohhhhh,_ that Finn felt his own dick respond.

“It’s kind of a cheater move,” he said, squeezing Kurt’s butt again, and felt the slippery stickiness between them. “Saying _I love you_ in the middle of — all of this. I didn’t really mean to do it that way. But it’s true. For a long time.”

Kurt cried and ground his hips into Finn’s for several minutes, until the crying was eclipsed by moaning. By then Finn was hard again too.

“Take off your jeans,” Kurt said.

Finn didn’t argue; his jizz-coated boxers were getting chilly. He wiggled out of them, then his shirt, and dumped the whole mess onto the bedroom floor before returning to the bed to help Kurt unbutton his shirt. When Kurt finally pulled him down on top of him, they were both naked. 

“Should I feel inadequate, here? I mean, I’m kind of regular-sized, but you’re —“

“You’re perfect. Trust me. And really, we don’t have to do anything more, I just wanted to feel your skin.”

“Had enough frosting?”

Kurt sighed, shaking his head with a rueful smile. “My body apparently thinks not. I don’t know if I can finish again right now, though.”

“I could,” said Finn. “Maybe not so fast as before.” Kurt actually looked impressed. Finn felt the blush spreading down his neck to his chest. “It’s not really an accomplishment.”

“I beg to differ,” Kurt murmured. “More chances for you to feel good. I'm just looking forward to discovering all the… kinds of cookies you like.”

“I’m going to try to stay open minded.” His gut was already tense and his head buzzing, just from rubbing against Kurt’s bare thigh like this. “There’s a lot of flavors I never considered trying before.”

“I promise I won’t push you to… well. To try anything you don’t want to try.”

“I don’t mind a little pushing.” He illustrated his point with a nudge that slid into a more intimate spot than he’d intended. “Uh — sorry.”

“Whatever you want, Finn.” Kurt pulled him into more kissing that left them both breathless. “Maybe that can wait for another day. When we have more time.”

“I guess my mom will be home soon.”

That thought made them both pause and look at one another in dismay.

“Well, that killed the mood.” Kurt sighed. “Finn, I really don’t think we’re going to be able to keep this a secret.”

“No.” Finn shifted off Kurt to lie beside him on the narrow bed, both of them staring up at the familiar ceiling. “I think we’re gonna have to make a case for staying in this room together, though. Not to mention there’s not really another place for either of us to go.”

“Do you want a different room?”

“No.” His answer was quick. He reached for Kurt’s hand and held it tight. “And I don’t want them to give us a hard time, either. I mean, we’re technically adults, right? We should be able to… bake, in our own room, if we want.”

Kurt smiled. “This metaphor’s getting messy.”

“Very messy,” Finn agreed. “But if it makes you smile like that, I’ll do all the cleanup.”

That got Kurt crying all over again, but this time Finn managed to comfort Kurt without getting caught up in another round of arousal. They sat naked together on the edge of Kurt’s bed until Kurt calmed down. He gazed up at Finn with wet eyes.

“I’m having trouble believing you really want to go through all this for me,” he said.

Finn nodded. “I’ll try not to freak out, but I guess I can’t promise I won’t. So far, so good, though? And seriously, who’s going to be surprised when they find out?”

Kurt’s eyebrows went up. “ _Everybody?”_

“Yeah, I doubt it. The rumors about us never really went away.” He leaned over and kissed Kurt’s cheek. “Trust me, Kurt, this won’t be for you. This’ll be for me.”

“Okay.” Kurt let out a determined sigh. “Shower. Then cookies. And then… maybe we talk to our parents.”

Finn stood up and held out a hand for Kurt. “Maybe we just start making out in front of them.”

“I think that might give my dad another heart attack.” But Kurt was smiling. He stood on tiptoe and kissed Finn on the cheek in the same place Finn had kissed him. “If we’re going to kill them with something, it might as well be with sweetness.”

“Bring on the frosting,” Finn declared.


End file.
